


Take Care Of You

by owl_coffee



Category: 6 Underground (2019)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys need to talk more, Consent Issues, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Explicit Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Woobie Four, like lots of swearing, seven pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:29:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owl_coffee/pseuds/owl_coffee
Summary: Seven's always trying to help number Four get out of trouble.
Relationships: Four | Billy/One (6 Underground), Four | Billy/Seven | Blaine (6 Underground)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey, you all right?" asked Four, "Only you been kind of quiet since we got back."

They were sitting in the cockpit area of one of the abandoned planes in One's desert junkyard, Four in one pilot's chair and Seven in the other. Four had told him he came up here to drink and take it easy and produced a couple of chilled beers from a little mini-fridge running off some kind of jury-rigged power supply. There was a calm-looking bulldog lying at their feet, seeming perfectly at home here.

Seven took another pull from his beer. "It's suddenly just hitting me, man. What we left behind. I can't ever speak to my family again, you know? That's hard to come to terms with." Seven shook his head. "I can't even use my real name anymore."

"I don't know if I can really relate," said Four. "I mean, I thought my crew and me were tight, but then Zafia screwed me over for them diamonds, and Reg let her. I grew up in care, never really had no-one important except them. I guess I feel like if I'm dead, I might as well be here."

"Sorry to hear that. That's rough."

"Yeah, well, I guess it's true what they say," Four shrugged, scratching the bulldog under the chin. "There's no honour among thieves." The dog's tongue lolled out and he opened his mouth wider like a goofy smile. "At least I've got this guy right here."

"He's a good boy. He your dog?" asked Seven.

"Yeah. His name is Boxer. One let me keep him when I asked nicely."

"I thought we were supposed to leave all the stuff from our past that they could use to trace us behind?"

"I can be pretty persuasive, when I try to be. When I'm grateful for something." Four looked up with wide innocent blue eyes. "Speaking of which, thanks. For earlier. I don't know if I'dve made it out of there without you taking that guy down."

"Not a problem. I'm just glad it worked, that was some crazy situation right there. Does shit go sideways like that all the time around here?"

"You get used to it." Four shrugged. "Anyway, cheers. I'll make it up to you sometime."

Seven took another gulp of the cold beer. The desert sun was just starting to set, turning the clouds orange. "I guess being dead isn't so bad," he said. "Not right now, anyway. This is pretty nice."

  
\---

  
Four wasn't looking too good. Underneath the dirt and blood - mostly not his own, Seven hoped - his skin was pale as a fish's belly. They were sitting in luxury in the back of a large, plush bizjet making their way the hell out of Hong Kong, but his friend didn't look relaxed at all. He was still shaking a little, maybe from the adrenaline, holding his own arms like he was trying to secure himself together.

"You OK, man?" Seven asked. "You look like shit."

"I'm fine. Five gave me the all-clear, I'm good."

"I did not 'give you the all clear'," said Five in annoyance from the row behind them. She poked her dark head over the divider. "I told you you didn't have any internal organ punctures. It's not the same thing."

"I'll be good though, right Five?" Four asked, stretching out his legs and wincing a little. "I'll be fine."

"You're probably not going to die, no. Just don't fucking fall asleep yet if you want to avoid a concussion, OK? You got punched a lot." Five tapped him on the head gently. "Keep him awake, Seven."

"Hey, why do I have to keep him awake? What if I was planning to sleep?" Seven said, turning to see Five had snapped a sleep-mask over her eyes. "Oh, I get it. Fine."

She still managed to aim a finger at him pretty accurately considering she couldn't see. Then she reclined backward until her head was out of sight. "These fancy airline seats are _amazing_ ," he heard her say.

"Want anything to eat?" asked Seven, taking a bite out of his protein bar. "Tastes like shit but apparently it has every vital nutrient in it."

Four shook his head.

"OK, you want to watch a movie or something?" asked Seven. "I don't know what we've got on here, but let's see... " He took the remote for the little TV mounted in the bulk-head and scrolled through their pre-saved options. "Hm, no. No. Wait, that's kind of X-rated. Uh, and this one is too. Whoah, OK!" Seven flipped the channel options hastily to avoid the writhing naked bodies, and ended up on some random cooking show. Actually, the chef guy seemed to be a little too into drizzling the sauces. Then the camera panned out and it turned out he was preparing the 'meal' on the body of a naked woman. And he was evidently very happy about it. "What the fuck!" Seven turned off the TV.

Four was laughing, rusty, like grating metal. "The guy who owned this plane was a horny sod, eh?"

"Apparently there are no normal movies. I don't even want to know," Seven said. "It's like we're trapped inside the mind of a thirteen-year-old boy."

Four had picked up the remote and was scrolling with more focus than Seven had. He'd muted it so at least the TV had stopped moaning. "Hey, this one's normal! I love this movie, it's Die Hard!"

"It's not some weird pornified remake of Die Hard?" asked Seven skeptically. 

"No, it looks like the real thing," Four was laughing again. "Do you mind watching it? I mean, it's cool if you wanted to watch anything else?"

"What? Oh, hell no. This is good. Die Hard is good."

It turned out they both knew the words pretty much by heart. All they needed was popcorn, but there were some chips and nuts in one of the drawers by the seats, too. This was one classy plane. 

Seven kept a discreet eye on Four in case his condition got any worse and he needed to wake up Five to treat him for something. She was a little salty, but she was genuinely a good doctor. But as the movie progressed Four seemed to relax a little and his shakes subsided as he got wrapped up in the story.

Three came through just as the credits were rolling. "Oh hey, Die Hard! That's a decent film."

"Were you up front steering with One?" asked Seven.

Three smiled gleefully. "Nope! I was busy joining the mile high club with Camille - er, Number Two. Well, technically she's already a member, but it's good to be thorough, right? Really stamp that membership card. Did you know the bathroom up the front has an actual tub?"

"We did not need to know that," Five said, sitting up in the row behind and rubbing her eyes. "Ugh, you guys are so extra."

"What a woman!" Three said, lying down in the row across from them so that he was entirely horizontal, his body covering three seats. He closed his eyes and seemed to fall instantly asleep. 

Five stumbled to her feet and headed to the bathroom. "I just hope you're taking precautions. I don't want to use up my antibiotic supplies treating fucking STIs. You know how hard it is to get decent bootleg antibiotics?"

Three began to snore.

"Whatever." Five headed out into the corridor and closed the cabin door.

The credits finished rolling and the screen returned to the first option Seven had seen when he'd switched on the TV. Seven turned it off, hastily.

"Sorry," he said to Four, embarrassed. Seven crossed his legs, uncomfortable suddenly. "I forgot that would come back on."

"That's OK," Four shrugged. He seemed to be more focused now, more his normal self. He scrutinised Seven with his blue eyes, like he was trying to read something in him. 

"So what do you want to do next?" asked Seven. "We got another few hours to kill before we stop off to refuel, I think. We could see if this guy has any more normal movies?"

"Yeah," Four said. In the same casual tone, he said, "Or I could suck your dick in the bathroom."

"You could - what?" Seven's brain stuttered to a halt. Three was still snoring a death-rattle in the other corner, and there was no-one else in the cabin, but Seven still felt his ears heat with mortification that anyone might have heard. "Um - "

Four spoke in an undertone. "I'm more than happy to. That's twice you've saved my life now. I figure you deserve some of my gratitude, in whatever form you like. I swing both ways, guys and girls, and I've seen the way you look at me, sometimes. You want to join the mile high club? It doesn't have to mean anything." He put a hand on Seven's knee, lightly, fingertips just ghosts against his skin.

How old was he, anyway? Nineteen? Too young to be offering this up so casually. Seven couldn't think straight. His mouth was dry. He had a sudden clear image of Riley's face, his mouth, as he bent down in the showers. What they'd had had only ever been quick and wordless, worried that someone might catch them at it, but they hadn't done it because they felt they had to. Like a debt or something. That seemed _wrong_.

"I didn't do that because I wanted you to feel obligated to - wait, is that what you meant when you said you'd persuaded One to let you keep your dog? Shit!" Seven said, suddenly sickened. "Did he make you - "

"He didn't _make_ me do anything," said Four, fierce. "I offered. You have a problem with that?"

"Yeah, I think I have a fucking problem with that, he's like fifty years old and he has all this power over you, that's disgusting - "

Five came back in, closing the door on the sound of a toilet flush. "Three wants to have some dinner, you guys want anything? We could microwave those Meals-Ready-To-Eat, give to you the nostalgic army feeling, Seven." She took in the atmosphere in the room. Four was glaring at Seven, like if eyes could heat up his blue gaze would burn through steel. "Well this is cosy. Did you guys quarrel about what you want to watch next or something?"

Seven took a breath. "Yeah, something like that. I'm not interested in the movie Four wants."

"That's a pity." Five raised an eyebrow, and he knew she'd seen straight through him somehow. She picked up a DVD case from the little shelf in the corner. "Let's watch this instead."

Four was momentarily distracted. "'Four Weddings and a Funeral'? That's such posh garbage! You can't be serious," he snorted.

"Well, it has your name in it," said Five. "Your fake name, anyway. It's my turn to choose. Put it on."

So Seven ended up spending the rest of that flight eating lukewarm oreos and chilli from a packet while watching rich English people fall in and out of love with each other, feeling like he'd somehow fucked up but not knowing what else he should have done with Four's offer. Four dropped off to sleep part-way through, pillowed by his sweater against the bulkhead. His face looked even younger asleep with his expression smoothed out, vulnerable.

When Four had been trapped by that goon in the building site, high up above them, he'd thought they lost him. Seven couldn't get a clear shot for what felt like an eternity, had had to wait while Four took punch after punch, watch him get nearly strangled, their heads blurring together in his viewfinder even as he steadied the gun against the car, tuning out One's protestations that this was taking too long. When Four started to fall, tangled in the orange netting, Seven thought he'd lost him. It had felt like losing his guys again, the worst feeling in the world.

And now he'd messed up and Four hated his guts. Shit.

\---

"Four, where you at?"

_"One, please! Help me!"_

"Where are you? Four, tell us where you are," said One urgently. They were both sprinting across the ship but where the fuck was Four?

Clanging sounds came over the radio. " _They're_ \- _gonna_ _kill_ _me_ \- " panted Four, sounding wet like he'd been punched in the mouth.

"Where are you?" One asked again. Seven had never heard his voice this tense. He'd thought their chief didn't care about any of them, not like he did. Guess he was wrong. "It's a big ship, buddy," said One, jogging down the corridor. "You've got to give me a hint."

Seven could hear tiles splintering, that metallic clang again. The pool! "He's by the fucking pool!"

Number One ran to the upper deck, Seven tagging a couple of bodyguards who would've gotten in his way. A shot rang out and Seven spotted Four running clear, following One as they made their way to escape. His right arm was clutched to his body, like something had hurt it badly. They all made it out safe.

One had broken his own rules. He'd saved a member of the team, even though it meant letting the dictator get ahead of them again. Seven guessed he needed to reassess the guy's character.

  
\---

  
In the hospital after, Four got his own suite. Seven noted with approval the couple of tough-looking guys on the door.

"In case there are any of my brother's sympathisers still on the loose, looking for revenge," explained Murat. "Here he is," said the new ruler of Turgistan, opening the inner door. "Apparently his arm was broken, but it will mend well."

"Thank you," said One, looking uncomfortable. "I'm not really a fan of hospitals, so I'll just leave you guys to it, OK? Murat, you told me there's still a few hold-outs at the palace?"

"Thank you, my friend. It's nothing we can't sort out," said Murat, walking away with the team's leader. "The key is that we want them to surrender without more violence. I must stop the cycle now my brother's gone. I want his trial to be the signal for a new era in our country."

Four was sitting up in a clean white bed, a cast on his arm. He looked pale but happy. "Hi guys! It looks worse than it is, honest. They said it was a greenstick fracture, I've had those before. Means the bone isn't actually broken, more like cracked. They put the dislocations back already."

"We know what a greenstick fracture is," said Five, lips pursing in some sort of professional approval of the set-up here. She walked over and scrutinised his drip.

"I didn't," said Three, awkwardly holding the gigantic bunch of flowers he'd insisted the team pick up. 

"So, uh, you OK?" asked Seven.

"Oh yeah, they got me hooked up to this thing, just push a button," Four gestured, "And it gives you more painkillers. S'nice. I don't feel anything."

"And will you be able to play the piano again?" asked Two, making an athletic jump motion with her hands. "The parkour?"

Four's face closed down a bit. "I'll be fine. Just got to rest for bloody ages. Guess I'll be stuck back at the base while you guys go do fun stuff."

"I guess we're all gonna rest up a bit before the next mission," said Seven. Then he was distracted by the sight of Three attempting to jam the flowers into an improvised vase made out of IV tubing and a bedpan.

Two put a hand over her face. "Lovely."

  
\---

  
Back at the base, things were pretty quiet. Two and Three had gone off somewhere to meet Three's mother, and Five had gone wherever Five went outside of missions. A hot sand-filled wind whipped around the corner and into Seven's face as he walked Boxer the bulldog around their compound to give him a bit of exercise. The dog was even less interested in healthy living than Three, whose diet seemed to consist entirely of potato chips when they weren't on a mission. How did he manage to stay in such good shape, anyway?

"Come on, it's good for you," said Seven encouragingly to the dog. He got a mournful stare back in return. "Yeah, don't look at me like that." 

He'd hardly seen anything of his remaining team-mates all day. Naively, Seven had thought that maybe when they were back on base killing time between missions, he'd get the chance to get to know them better. But over the last few weeks, aside from eating dinner together with whoever was on base and catching dumb action movies with Four on their little satellite TV, it seemed increasingly obvious nobody was really the sharing type. Dead people, huh?

A bent antenna on the ground caught his eye. He picked it up and looked at it a moment. Maybe if he cleaned up one of these it'd be good for helping scratch underneath Four's cast, actually. The guy had just been complaining about it being difficult to handle itching under there. It wanted something narrow and the right shape.

Once they got round the corner of the plane on the edge of the lot, the wind eased a bit. In the shelter of its wing was a building he'd never been into before, an ugly-looking grey prefab thing. The dog pricked up his ears and actually seemed eager to head over in that direction, so Seven let him. Maybe there was dog-food inside or something.

The bulldog wasn't content just to piss outside, even started jumping up and scrabbling at the door. "You want us to go in here, huh buddy? OK, sure, you little weirdo." Seven half-expected it to be locked, like half of One's stuff was, but the handle turned easily. 

Inside was - 

"Hey, ever learn to fucking knock?" One shouted furiously, and Seven backed out automatically, the wind catching the door and slamming it behind him. 

"What the shit," said Seven. Boxer was barking excitedly. "You stupid dog!" 

The bulldog whined, uncertain. 

"Stupid fucking dog," said Seven, gentler, pulling the lead back toward him. He shook his head to try to clear it, walked them back toward the main complex. The door had only been open for like a second, but he still had a clear image burned into his head of the two of them together, Four and One. Four's pants had been around his ankles, like One couldn't even wait for him to get all his clothes off properly, just pressed him up against the wall and took him like it was nothing. Four was still wearing his fucking cast.

Seven's eyes were burning from the desert glare, sand stinging through his T-shirt as the wind picked up again. Seven climbed up the steps and locked the door of his plane cabin. He let go of Boxer's leash and the dog jumped up onto his recliner and laid down, panting. At least they each got a plane pretty much to themselves, in this crazy aviation graveyard. It got warm in here when the sun was shining, so he'd blocked out most of the windows with foil. Someone, probably One, had wired up the thing for electricity so he had a little TV, a power outlet, everything pretty nice for a shell of an old airplane.

Seven couldn't even sit down. He paced back and forth like he couldn't stop walking. A swift running stream of anger had opened up inside him and the cold fury was pouring through his veins.

"What the _fuck_!" Seven shouted, like shouting would help any. Boxer, startled up out of his doze for a moment, let out a bark.

  
\---

  
The only reason Seven kept it cool during dinner was that Two and Three had just gotten back. They were all lovey-dovey and seemed to be completely oblivious to the simmering tension between Seven and One. 

"You liked it? My mother gave us the recipe," smiled Three, licking the serving spoon at the end of the meal.

"Gross, I guess no-one else is having seconds, then," said Four.

"What?" Three put the spoon back in the pot.

"Your spit, darling," explained Two. She leered at him. "Well, I don't mind it."

"Get a room, you two!" laughed One. "I take it the visit went well. I hope I don't have to remind you to take every precaution about your identities on trips like that? Don't make it a habit. I erased the security cam footage, by the way. No need to thank me."

"Thank you boss," said Two sweetly.

"Yeah, thanks," said Three, sounding unexpectedly emotional. "It was really good. She said she was proud of me. Actually me, this time, not my brother."

"Of course she was proud of you," said Two, mushily.

Number One eyed the pair of them skeptically. "Definitely just sex, right?"

"For sure," said Two.

"Well - " began Three at the same time.

"Great." One said. "Make sure you keep it that way. I'm kind of loosening the rules for you, here."

Seven gripped his fork tighter, seized with a sudden urge to jam it into One's hand. Hypocritical bastard.

One turned to him unexpectedly. "Seven, I've had the feeling you want to say something to me for a while. Want to spit it out?"

"Let's go outside," said Seven, trying to keep his voice calm. "I'd like to talk with you alone a sec."

"All right," said One, casual. "Hope you guys don't mind doing the dishes."

"You never do them anyway," muttered Three behind him.

"Thanks!" shouted One as he shut the door of the lean-to behind them. The desert night was unexpectedly cold, stars glittering in the clear air like pieces of frost. "OK, out with it. You've been giving me a death glare all through dinner. I don't see what your problem is, given _you're_ the one who interrupted _me_ in the middle of - "

"You should stop fucking Four," said Seven. He felt the weight of his gun on his hip, suddenly put in mind of how long it would take to flip the safety off and draw. "It's messing with his head."

"I should stop - excuse me! How is it any of your business who he fucks?"

"Don't give me that bullshit. You said it yourself, no-one's supposed to get with another member of the team - " Seven started.

"Oh, like we really reinforce that iron-clad rule. You've just got your panties in a twist because he's a guy, right? Well, get used to it. You're not in the Bible Belt any more, OK?" One's voice was infuriatingly smug.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Seven drew his gun and cocked it, got it pointed at One's kneecap. Piece of shit. "He's nineteen years old, how old are you exactly, Mr Billionaire?"

"Look up," said One, and Seven saw he had his piece out as well, pointed right at Seven's head. "I don't fuck around, Seven, I thought you knew that about me. Put the gun away."

Seven's hand shook with how badly he wanted to pull the trigger, who cared about the chances, but he managed to get a hold on himself and holster his weapon again. "Fuck you."

One lowered his gun but didn't put it down. "OK, I'm beginning to see there's a bigger problem at play here. You want to tell me how long you've had a crush on Billy?"

"It's not about that," said Seven through gritted teeth. 

"Mm-hm. Why didn't you just tell him, if you felt so badly about it? I'm sure he'd toss you a bone," One said. "I think he likes you."

What was it about this man that so consistently got under his skin? Seven made an effort. "Listen, asshole, I'm trying to tell you that he's not necessarily doing this because he likes _you_. You're pressuring him into it, and that's not right."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" said One, sounding genuinely puzzled. "About five minutes after I first met him, not counting the whole thing with tying him to a chair and convincing him to fake his own death and join my organisation, he was blowing me in the men's room. I generally count that as a sign of unforced interest. I'm not like, tempting him into a life of sin or some shit like that. He's been with guys before."

"That's not what I mean, idiot. In the military we've got a rule about fraternization between ranks for a damn reason. You're effectively his commanding officer. There's no way you can fuck him and know for sure that it's what he actually wants, not just what he thinks he should do for you. He told me he 'persuaded' you into letting him keep his dog. I've had pretty iron-clad proof he feels like sex is something he owes you if you have his back in a fight. That doesn't sound great to me. You shouldn't let it happen any more."

"I'm not - it wasn't like that!" One lowered the gun and rubbed a hand against his neck. "Fuck, it definitely wasn't like that. He'd have said something if he hadn't wanted to ... " He looked a bit lost.

"You've always been able to turn people down, right? Mr Billionaire. Well, some of us didn't grow up that way." Seven could see that this was actually sinking in, maybe. "You need to be careful. Especially with a guy that grew up rough and maybe never got the chance to say no to someone in authority. He's doing what you want him to. He doesn't have a real choice in any of this." He hadn't intended to tell this story, but, "When I was a private, just starting out my training, we had an instructor. He was in charge of my whole class, took us through basic and really molded us into soldiers. Everyone really looked up to him. Well, he took a shine to one of my buddies in the squad, a real shine to him. This seventeen year old kid, what does he know? He says yes. Maybe he even likes it, the first time it happens, feels flattered. But it happens again, and again, and this kid feels like he can't say no, you know? The instructor is hot shit, everyone thinks the sun shines out of his ass, he's taking us into the exams and the kid doesn't want to fail out, doesn't want to get sent back home in disgrace. So he keeps on going to the instructor's office and - "

"Do I want to know the ending?" interrupted One, looking sick. "Let me guess, the kid runs away and never gets to become a soldier."

"Worse. He killed himself."

"Jesus Christ." One shook his head. "I'm not - I'm not that instructor. I fucking swear, I'd never force anyone - "

"I know you don't mean it that way," said Seven. He did know that now. "But you've got to step back from him. I swore I wouldn't witness that again without doing something about it."

"Right." One looked a little lost. He holstered his gun. "I'll step back. I promise. Thanks, I guess. I'd forgotten how much I've ... I didn't grow up rich, you know? I still think of myself as this goofy kid just playing around with magnets. Forgot I was in charge of all this." One gestures to the junkyard all around them. "This whole operation. I was flattered - I guess I was thinking with my dick rather than my head. Shit."

"It's fine," said Seven. "Just look out for it. He's not going to let you know."

"OK, great, good talk," said One, sucking in a breath. He shook Seven's hand, awkwardly. "Now let's never discuss this again."

"Fine by me, long as you keep your word."

"I will."

  
\---

  
A couple of nights later, Seven was startled out of his sleep by a shout.

"You son of a bitch!" It was Four, flipping the lights on and pointing a long, sharp-looking flick knife at him. "What did you say to him about me?"

Seven tried to sit up, got somehow tangled in his hammock and ended up sprawled on the ground, awkwardly. He got to his feet. "Wait, how did you get in here? I definitely locked that door."

"I just picked it, that's not important." Four scowled at him. "What did you say to One?"

"I don't know what you mean," tried Seven. He was really wishing he had slept wearing more clothing than a stupid palm-tree-printed pair of shorts. He wasn't about to start sleeping with his gun, either, but sometimes this crazy life made him think he should.

"I'm not a _child_ , Seven. You had some big serious conversation with him and now he won't go near me. I tried to, like, start something and he said he couldn't do that with me any more. That it had to be 'mutually consensual'," Four said, face twisting with anger. "Like I don't know what I'm doing. What did you _say_ to him?"

"Maybe it's for the best," said Seven, almost painfully relieved that One had kept his promise. "He's in charge. We're all just grunts here. Maybe he decided sleeping with one of the troops was a bad idea."

"What are you talking about? We're not in the fucking army, you know that, right? There aren't any rules here except the ones he makes up for us." Four is still holding up his knife like it's giving him courage. "Everything was going fine with me and Number One, it was going perfect, and you ruined it, you wanker!"

"I'm not in charge of him. You know that," said Seven. "It's done. Let it be done."

Four suddenly grabbed ahold of Seven's shoulder with his good hand and hooked a leg around behind his knee, tripping him. Seven only just flung out his arms fast enough to protect his face. Four's grip had been surprisingly strong.

"I'm not some kind of damsel in distress you have to bloody protect!" shouted Four, panting. "My cast's coming off soon and I'm gonna be back to normal, I'm just as good as anyone else on the team. You think you can just warn him off me like I'm your property or something? When you never did anything about it anyway? Fuck you!"

Seven got to his knees, gingerly. He tasted blood in his mouth from when his teeth came together in the fall. "It's not like that," he said.

"What the hell is it about, then? You jealous of me or something?" Four kicked Seven in the belly, hard. Seven doubled over in pain. "Just tell him to put things back the way they used to be! Tell him you changed your mind!"

Seven rolled to his feet, got his fingers around the gun he kept nearest to the door. He kept the safety on, but held it openly. "I can't do that."

Four rushed toward him unexpectedly, and Seven couldn't bear to actually aim at him, let alone fire. He expected a knife to his ribs. Instead he got a wet mouth pressed against his own, then teeth nipping his shoulder.

"At least let me have this, then," said Four, so close now. His tongue was wet against Seven's ear. "You know you want to."

Seven couldn't think of the right way to explain that this wasn't what he'd intended. While he was trying, Four sank to his knees in front of him and efficiently took Seven's cock into his mouth.

The gun fell out of Seven's nerveless fingers with a clatter to the floor. 

"See," Four was saying, in between trying to swallow him whole. "I can make it good. I can make it good for you."

"Oh, God," said Seven. He was going to a special place in hell for this. This was such an exquisitely great-feeling bad idea. "No, wait, stop," he managed, pushing Four away.

"What? You want something else?" Four looked up at him, lips pink, and it took all Seven had not to just swallow down his good sense and take what he was given. "I can do whatever you want."

"No, I don't want anything." Seven pulled his shorts back up, trying desperately to think of non-sexy things. His Great-Aunt Edna. Baseball scores. Cold fucking showers. "This isn't a good idea. You're not thinking straight at the moment."

"What's wrong? Listen, you don't have to do anything, you know, to me. I can just make you feel good. It doesn't have to be like, gay. It's fine," said Four. "Just give me a chance, I can make it good."

"God damn it, this is exactly why I cannot do this with you right now," said Seven, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to block out the sight of Four still on his knees in front of him. "Get up, come on." He grabbed Four underneath the arms and pulled him to his feet. Four sucked in a breath and Seven remembered his fucking arm, to his chagrin. "Shit, did I hurt you?"

"I'm fine!" Four spat at him. He backed up. "Fuck you then. Think you're too good for me. Whatever."

"I'm not some kind of substitute for One," said Seven. "I can't just step into his shoes with you. That's not a good idea. You need to take a minute to think about what you actually want. I like you - God, I'm really attracted to you, but I can't do this with you right now."

"Why not?" asked Four, his face screwed up like he was trying not to cry. "I'm fine. It's all fine. If you'd just let me -"

"OK," said Seven, picking up his gun from the floor. "I'm going to count to ten, and you're going to get the hell out of here. I need to clear my head and you are not helping. We can talk about it in the morning, OK? One. Two. Three - "

"Fuck you, then," said Four, bolting out of there. He slammed the door behind him.

"Well, that went well," said Seven to himself. He put his gun back on the shelf, sat down, and poured himself a drink. Then he got up again to lock the door, for what good that'd do. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, they had other things to think about.

"Let me tell you about the Sultanate of Kinakuta," said One, pointing to the map on the board. "It's where a fun arms deal is going to go down a few days from now, unless we can stop it. You've heard about what the Saudis are doing in Yemen, right?" 

"Sure," said Seven. "This is something like that?"

"Yep. Let's just say the British really need to learn not to keep arming bad guys," said One. "These particular arms dealers are levelling up and starting to sell white phosphorous and landmines. Against international law. That's not cool. Now, unlike our previous missions, this is going to be a freaking pinpoint, precise operation. Nothing loud, no drawing attention to ourselves, just a couple of quiet assassinations and we'll be on our way."

"Right," drawled Three. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"There's always a first time," said One, testily. "Here's the plan - "

  
\---

"Run!" shouted Three, sprinting ahead of him.

"I - am - trying my best - " panted Seven, just barely keeping up with him. It was difficult to run in a straight line with some kind of fucking shrapnel embedded in his shoulder.

"Faster! They're coming over the wall!" yelled Two, stopping to toss a grenade behind her at the armed squadron. "Climb over it, I'm right behind you!"

The walled palace compound in the heart of Kinakuta City had looked exotic and relaxing, to start with. Now it had turned into a killing maze. Beige walls rose up all around them, dividing out gardens with trickling fountains and leafy arcaded courts. It would have been a lovely vacation, if there weren't all these guys in here trying to kill them. Behind them trailed spots of blood from Seven's wounds, like some sort of stupid breadcrumb trail leading the bad guys right to them.

"I don't think I can climb that thing," said Seven, despairing. There seemed to be just a few toeholds in the wall in front of them. The stairs to the top of the walkway were in the far corner, too distant to sprint for. "Shit, just leave me behind, I can't do it!"

"Nope," said Three, and together he and Two boosted Seven up to shoulder-height. It was just enough for Four to grab his arms from the top of the wall and haul him up onto the narrow walkway.

"Aagh," said Seven, feeling like a landed fish.

"Come on, can you walk?" Four asked, then didn't wait for an answer, taking one of Seven's arms over his back and starting to jog west. "We've got to get to the extract point, it's not much further from here. Fuck, you're bleeding a lot."

"Been - better," said Seven, holding his side and gasping. "Thanks for grabbing me."

"Just hold tight, all right? Don't look down."

The last few minutes felt like an eternity. Four had clearly diverted his route to stop Seven from having to climb too much, but even so the last set of steps was rough. Looking into one of the gardens beside them, Seven could see a peacock walking across the grass. It was so small it looked like a dot. Seven felt dizzy for a moment, nearly toppling over the side of the wall before Four could grab for him and pull him back.

"What did I tell you?" said Four, sounding angry. "Don't look down! That's an amateur mistake. Bad luck!"

"Shit, sorry," said Seven, before he felt himself being bundled into the helicopter by his team-mates. "Hey, did you get the last guy?" he asked One as they took off, beautiful blue seas and white beaches unfurling beneath them. "God, this place is gorgeous." There were even dolphins in the waves, he was pretty sure. Things felt a little disconnected. "Let's come back here sometime."

"Hold still while I'm trying to fix your broken body, you piece of shit," said Five above him, pressing gauze pads to his shoulder and shouting to Four, "Pass me the tweezers already!"

She started digging around under his skin and things got exquisitely painful for a small angle of time that somehow worked out very long. It was amazing how much punishment your body could take before you actually passed out, Seven was thinking. 

"Am I glad I thought ahead this time and got some extra platelets," said Five, sounding I-told-you-so smug. "Now, this might sting a little," she added, and did something that felt searingly bad and finally sent Seven into oblivion.

  
\---

  
Seven woke up in the hospital, thinking for a moment that he was in Helmand again. But this hospital ward was wrong. Same white-sheet dividers, but everything was rocking back and forth gently. On the ocean.

"Can you hear me?" said Five's voice behind him. 

He attempted to sit up, felt a stinging on his hand and tried to brush away whatever was biting at him. Fucking mosquitoes. 

"Hey, stop touching that! I'll put you out again!" Five slapped his hand away. "Pro tip, while receiving a transfusion it's a good idea not to fight off your doctor or pull out your line. Do you still think I'm a terrorist, or are you properly awake now?"

"M'okay," said Seven, getting his bearings. The ship. Right. They must be sailing back to America right now. "Hey Doc, did we do it? We get all three of them?"

"Yes," said Five, looking satisfied. "We did. And everyone's back OK. Including you, you complete idiot. Next time you want to try and jump on a grenade, just think twice, maybe? Our bullet-proof outfits aren't magic, you know."

"I know." Boy, did he know it. His whole body felt like a giant bruise, now that he gave some attention to it. "Ugh, I am sore."

"You could've been a lot worse. Idiot." 

To Seven's intense surprise he saw that Five was blinking back tears. She gave a sniff then briskly injected him with something which sent his mind elsewhere for a while.

\---

When he came to again, he saw Four was sitting in the chair beside his bed, playing on some kind of portable game. Tinny little explosions and music came out of it quietly.

"Hey, Four," he said.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," said Four, looking sheepish. "I couldn't find the headphones, so I turned it down, but if you can't hear at all then you don't notice the reptilians when they get behind you until it's too late."

"It's OK. Thank you for saving my life," said Seven. "I didn't realise I was afraid of heights."

Four looked up. "Everyone gets dizzy sometimes. Doesn't mean you're afraid. Anyway, you're welcome."

"Now we're even, right?" said Seven, sleepily. For some reason, that felt great. Oh yes. That was it. "Come here a sec," he said.

Four stood up and leaned over the bed. "What is it? Want me to get something for you?"

"No," said Seven, looking up at him. "You know, your eyes are the most beautiful blue I've ever seen. They're better than the ocean."

"Is this like, the delirium talking?" asked Four skeptically. His face was very close.

"No," said Seven. Then, "Can I kiss you?"

"Um, yes! Absolutely, yes! Right now?" Four asked. In answer Seven grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him gently down until their mouths met. 

"Yes, right now," said Seven, letting go.

"Well don't _stop_ then, you crazy bastard," said Four, and leant over Seven again, cupping his face in his hands. Their noses bumped awkwardly against each other, and at one point their teeth clashed, but Seven was pretty confident it was the best kiss he'd ever had.

"You do that pretty well," said Seven eventually.

"I do everything well," said Four with youthful arrogance. Then he seemed stricken. "Did you want me to stop? One's got me listening to these like, weird fucking podcasts about this stuff, like, listen to your body yourself or something. I was just kind of worried you were gonna die back there."

"I'm going to be OK," said Seven gently. "Sorry if I scared you."

"Forget about it. Anyway, we don't need to do anything - you'd said you didn't want me - "

"I want you. That was never an issue, I've just been a dumbass about trying to explain things, that's all," said Seven. "I really want you. If you'll have me."

"Cool. That's cool. I'm down for whatever. Once you're feeling better, that is, I'm sorry your shoulder is messed up. We could have a thing. Like, a casual thing. Or just one time, if that's what you fancy. It's cool regardless." Four was looking down at him nervously, like whatever he said might break the spell.

"I was thinking more of a serious thing," said Seven, watching those eyes. "Like, a boyfriend thing, if you want. I'm sorry I messed up. I did end up treating you like you weren't capable to make a decision. That's on me. But I'm asking you to make one now. I won't hold it against you if you're not interested in me like that."

"A boyfriend thing," said Four, in a tone Seven couldn't decipher. "Never had a boyfriend before."

"You don't have to decide right now - " began Seven, but then he was the one interrupted. Four's kisses were rather like being stormed by a squad of commandos, Seven decided, melting underneath him. Resistance was futile. Seven wasn't physically up to anything beyond kissing, but kissing felt like a full-time job right now.

Coming up for air, Seven added, "I take that as a yes, then." 

"Mm-hm," sang Four. "Come here." Then there was no more talking for a while. 

  
\---

  
"Hello love-birds," said Five, coming in with a clipboard.

Four flinched upright and let go of Seven's hand. "Hi, Five," he said. "Huh, that's funny. Hi Five. High Five, get it?" He laughed nervously.

Five rolled her eyes. "No need to be self-conscious on account of me," she said. "I'm already used to it from Two and Three, ugh. I've built up an unfortunate tolerance to mushiness from my team-mates. I was just here to tell you it's late, and my patient needs his rest soon," she said.

"Sure, Doc," said Seven. He idly repossessed Four's hand and stroked a thumb across the back of it. Four squeezed his finger back. 

Five looked heavenwards. "Just another few minutes then, OK? Or I'll come back here and sedate you both. That's not an idle threat. Good night, Four."

"G'night Five," said Four. "Thanks for taking care of him."

"It's what I do," her voice drifted back.

Seven fell asleep gradually, holding Four's hand as he drifted off. Just as he slipped into sleep, he felt Four press a kiss to his forehead.

"Good night, Blaine," whispered Four.

Seven smiled.


End file.
